So early, it is
That the sun has not stretched and risen over the mountainside
Only streetlamps cast yellowed light
Glinting off the slickwet pavement
After a night of soothing, chilling rain.

The rain lulls me
Like the song of a mother much unlike my own
Who croons to a child not because they fuss
But because she wishes to soothe them further
Into the sweetsoft pillow of sleep.

My fingers are chilled
And I long to lay naked in the warmth of
The electric coils buried in the soft blanket
That murmur words of sleep
And unending warmth.

But I rise, sadly
Don corduroy and a sweater older than I am
As well as slipping on the regret and the guilt
For actions done and undone
Of yesterday.

If I could choose
I would lay infinitely in the land of full warmth
And self-love and no regrets
Perhaps with someone by my side
On endless autumn mornings after rain.

There are already things
I can't quite remember
Like what books I made him read
If he still has them
Or if he never took them at all.

I can't quite recall
The color of his eyes
On the day we celebrated
6 months
Or a year
I cannot remember, and it aches within me
Because I want to.

It may be over.
I may not ever embrace him again,
Like so many others
He may be lost to me but I
Want to remember
The color of those bluegraygreen eyes
The way they were every day
Of the best relationship
Of my life.

They leer from the edges,
Teeth brushes never touched,
And they all chant the same words.

"Come with me, I have what you want."
"Follow to my stall, I know what you need."
"It's here, what you desire, I promise,you can buy it cheap."

And I wonder.
What if they really do?
What if somehow they have what I need?

Is Love a trinket you can sell on a scarred table?
Is Acceptance a spice that drifts up in the air and makes you snuffle-sneeze?
Can one really purchase Bravery in piles on blankets like you would oranges?

If I could do that, buy those things
With a handful of American money and a little haggling
I don't think I'd want them anymore.

Down the Hill
        With leaps and bounds and thumpingly great
                  Enthusiasm for existence itself and the grandiose beauty of the world
                          He runs, knowing not to ever stop because that's when the people come and
                                   Snap on your leash.
So he gallops forth into
         The vast expanse of the neighborhood without
                  Caring that the people will be mad. He snorts and sniffs his
                          Hound-dog nose and howls at all the Love and Injustice in the universe
                                    All at once.
Logic is not the strong suit
        Of dogs, which is fortunate for him because
                 Knowing brings pain and responsibility and who would not
                          Rather be a dog in a fall afternoon chasing nothing save destiny and joy
                                    Until the end?